Lagavulin

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Lagavulin is an Islay malt, which means it is very dry, peaty and probably heathery as well - not like the friendly Speysides we know and love - but I'm betting Cowley would appreciate a drop. It's supposed to be Very Good Stuff indeed.

Now the thing is, I didn't even comment to accept the Burns Night challenge, I was so completely convinced I'd never get anything done in time! - but I couldn't stop thinking about it .... I mean, it involves whisky for goodness' sake - and I suddenly found I'd dashed off this little short short short story  this morning. But when I went back to look at the challenge post, I realised I'd picked a poem already allocated to the incomparable Callisto. So I thought I'd better ask if I could still post it anyway, and our lovely byslantedlight says I may.

With apologies to Callisto, who is one of my most favourite writers - I didn't know I'd picked the same poem, honest! - and I'm so looking forward to reading yours!
ETA Aaagh - I was all wrong-way-rounded - it was byslantedlight's poem!!! (see comment below). Just as well for me she's a generous and understanding Controller, or I'd be banished to the File Room indefinitely .... ::blushing at error::
Well here goes, still!

Lagavulin.

 

“Lagavulin”

“Is there a cure for that?”

“No, you pillock. S’what Cowley put in the flask. Only a drop, mind, but I reckon it’s on his conscience that he’s got us on stakeout tonight.”

“Never known him to give a toss that it’s pissing down an’ bloody freezing. Besides, could be worse – at least we’re in a flat instead of the van, even if there is no electric.”

Doyle heaved a long-suffering sigh.

“It’s Burns night, innit. He’s off having a semi-diplomatic knees-up, enough malt to float a regiment, all skirling and piping and massacring the haggis an’ all that, an’ we’re stuck out here.”

Bodie just shrugged.
 

……………..
 

“Do your eyes in, you know, reading by torchlight. What you got there, anyway? Come on, give it here.”

Doyle made as if to snatch at the book, only to let his hand drop as he caught a glare so black as to make it abundantly clear that Bodie, for once in his life, was most definitely not playing. Hadn’t been in a half-decent mood for weeks, come to think of it. Since before Christmas. Doyle smiled, remembering. Daft pillock had been one or several over the eight at the Christmas party, waving mistletoe around, kissed every woman in CI5 just about and even tried to lay one on him. ‘Course he’d sidestepped pretty damn smartish. The smile slipped a little. Typical – so bloody nearly every Christmas present he’d ever wanted – except that Bodie was pissed and only pissing about, and didn’t actually mean it.
 

……………
 

“Come on, spell me for a bit – gotta take a piss”

That was a lie, but Doyle was starting to get itchy shoulderblades the way Bodie was staring at him – he knew Bodie was staring at him – all the time his back was turned, only to bury his nose in his book again if Doyle so much as glanced round. Bodie set the book down without answering, and took his place at the window; Doyle lifted the book on his way out the door and locked the loo door behind him before his partner could turn round. Nothing Bodie could do to stop him having a look at his reading matter now, any road. Poetry. Doyle’s eyebrows rose; Burns, yet. And the page marked and the book bent open by many readings … Doyle read. And re-read. And thought … and knew he was going to risk coming to a conclusion. He hadn’t actually seen Bodie drink that much at Christmas, actually. Just assumed he had. But maybe he hadn’t … and just maybe he’d been chancing his arm, with drink as a smokescreen.

“Time’s up, mate, s’midnight and we’re off watch since nobody’s showed by the allotted hour. Might even get a decent night in bed for once”.

Bodie packed up their few bits and pieces in silence, glanced around for his book, and stood stock still when he saw it in Doyle’s pocket. Doyle raised the flask, and tried to raise his courage to match. His voice, when he spoke, was steady enough despite the slight, almost imperceptible shake in his hand. But the flask of whisky caught the faint light from the window, betraying his nervousness.

“’S good stuff, this. Never tasted anything like it. Damn sight better than that bog-standard rubbish at the Christmas party. But you wouldn’t know, would you, since I reckon you only had a mouthful all night. No more pissed than I was, you bastard, an’ I don’t think much of you trying to pull the wool like that.”

Bodie almost fell back half a step in the face of Doyle’s advance, his expression colder and bleaker than ever.

“Don’t think much of your choice in poetry, either, mate. Never took you for a coward. Don’t know which of us you think this applies to, and I don’t bloody care either.”

Doyle took a breath. So what if his hands were shaking a bit more now. He gripped the flask a little more tightly.

“Got this to share, right? Gonna share it. Right down to the last bloody drop.” He was glaring a challenge, but as he raised the flask to his lips, his eyes fixed on Bodie’s, he saw with relief and trepidation that Bodie’s gaze was flooding with heat and his lips were quirking into a hint of a smile as Doyle very deliberately drained the last drop in the flask into his mouth. Bloody amazing whisky, he thought, as he saw Bodie’s tongue moisten his lips and his mate stepped in to make sure they both got every drop of their mutual fair share.

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Unbeta’d, and all mistakes and myriad shortcomings are mine all mine. B&D still aren’t mine …….

 

This is the Burns poem that Bodie was reading:

 

 

by Robert Burns (1759 – 1796).

 

Love In The Guise Of Friendship ( 1788 )

 

Talk not of love, it gives me pain,

For love has been my foe;

He bound me in an iron chain,

And plung’d me deep in woe.

 

But friendship’s pure and lasting joys,                          5

My heart was form’d to prove;

There, welcome win and wear the prize,

But never talk of love.

 

Your friendship much can make me blest,

O why that bliss destroy?                                                10

Why urge the only, one request

You know I will deny?

 

Your thought, if Love must harbour there,

Conceal it in that thought;

Nor cause me from my bosom tear                             15

The very friend I sought.

 

Comments

[byslantedlight.livejournal.com]

Rotfl - sorry, not at your story, but that's not Callisto's poem at all - that's mine! *vbg* That's the one that she gave me... *g* And you know, I still don't mind... *vbg* Hope you won't mind if I post summat a bit later! (If it helps, we seem to have slightly different versions of the poem too!)

And heee for the lads alone on stakeout, and sharing whisky and sneakiness and all! Very glad you posted! *g*

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

AAAAgh!!! I got it completely the wrong way round ::headdesk headdesk headdesk:: - so I'm apologising to you!!!! Thank you so much for not minding - and now I shall be looking forward to yours too! *g*

[sc-fossil.livejournal.com]

Oh, man. I love how they shared that last bit of drink. You know, I could so see them having a snark right before they get to it. Very much in character for me. Thank you!

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Thank you for the comment! I actually tried doing that with brandy once, and I think it works a lot better in fiction than it does in reality *bg* - but the lads are fairly hardened drinkers, and of course expert kissers so I'm sure they coped!
So glad you read and commented!

[shooting2kill.livejournal.com]

Oh, I'm really in the mood for this as I've just been listening to HRH Charlie and Brian Cox narrating My heart's in the Highlands and My love is like a red, red rose and wondering how/*if* a Bodie and Doyle story could be woven around the first poem, at least, but I think your choice of poem is even better!

Thank you for this, I liked it very much.

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm so glad you liked it! I haven't been able to string two words together for ages, but I couldn't help wanting to get my mitts on something that has whisky legitimately associated with it *g*. Thanks so much for commenting!

[msmoat.livejournal.com]

Oh, nice! I can see why that took hold of you and wouldn't let you go. Lovely imagery with the shared final drop. I've always been fond of stories taking place within the confines of a stake-out, and you did a good job with it, and the increasing tension between them. Thanks!

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much for reading and commenting - I've been so completely stuck for words lately I didn't think I'd get anything done, so I just set my sights on a little snippet, you know? I'm delighted you think it works out all right! (and of course I couldn't resist trying to get them to do something with whisky *g*)

[empty-mirrors.livejournal.com]

That's lovely. Great atmosphere. Thanks for sharing.

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I was feeling decidedly wobbly after so long without managing to set down as much as a single word, really, so thank you for reading and commenting!

[schnuffi.livejournal.com]

Mmmmmmm,very nice. Bodie and his poetry, hehe. And Doyle's such a wicked bastard using the scotch like this. Cowley would not approve, I'm sure. Which reminds me I still have an almost full bottle of Bruichladdich somewhere around...

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

I suspect you're right, Cowley would probably not approve - at least not of how Doyle treated the precious whisky! But Bodie really needed to be brought out of his despairing mood after thinking himself rejected, the silly sod. And wow, Bruichladdich - serious stuff you have there! *g*

[callistosh65.livejournal.com]

Wha a marvellous way to get them together, sharing that last drop.. made me shiver in the best possible way.*g* And I thought you had Doyle sum up Burns Night just perfectly: “It’s Burns night, innit. He’s off having a semi-diplomatic knees-up, enough malt to float a regiment, all skirling and piping and massacring the haggis an’ all that.."
Lovely, lovely stuff, thank you.

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Ah, thank you so much - I should love to have been able to give you a shiver! *g* I have to confess I've never been to a proper Burns Night, except a sort-of proper one once organised by a bunch of ex-pat Scots in a friendly neighbourhood pub in London (quite a B&D sort of pub, really - very down to earth!). We were lucky enough to get included in the lock-in (and the whisky!) and since at one point in the soirée some of those present did "turns" I may possibly have regaled the company with a bawdy ballad or two ... great fun! But I imagine Cowley attending a grand affair, with foreign dignitaries being impressed with the Scottishness of it all (and Doyle being distinctly unimpressed *g*).
So glad you liked it - thanks for the lovely comment!

[erushi.livejournal.com]

First there was the recollection of the Christmas do, which was lovely in its own right. Then there was the sharing of the last drop of whisky... which made me shiver and had my toes curling. Wonderful, just wonderul. *happy sigh*

Thank you for this!

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much for such a lovely comment! I couldn't resist trying to get them to share the whisky like that (though I admit that the one time I actually tried this in real life, albeit with brandy, it didn't work nearly as well as in fiction!). Poor Bodie, he really didn't get what failed to work out at the party and thought there was no chance after all, so I couldn't leave him like that *g*
I'm so happy you liked it! *enormous smiles*

[asymphototropic.livejournal.com]

“Lagavulin”

“Is there a cure for that?”

Heh, terrific start, and the rest of the fic packed a nice punch too. Huggishness. Hope you had great tatties on the 25th.

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Thanks Asy, and I'm really glad you liked that bit because I find even attempting a hint at their lovely witty snark very hard to do! (dialogue is not my best friend, alas!). I shall keep the hugs tucked away in my album with the four-leaf clovers *g*. No haggis/tatties/neeps here on the 25th I'm afraid, but we have got a drop of Glenlivet in at the moment so I'm sure I can bear up!
Actually I've only ever been to a semi-proper Burns Night once, (organised by a bunch of ex-pat Scots in a neighbourhood pub in London - quite a B&D sort of pub, really, very down to earth!). We were lucky enough to get to stay for the after-hours lock-in (and the whisky!) and after a while there came a point in the soirée when some people did "turns." I may just possibly have done my bit with a couple of bawdy ballads ... *bg*

[snailbones.livejournal.com]

Oh lovely - hot fic plus you've furthered my education in whisky!

Thanks for the great read - I loved Doyle being brave and cunning, and Bodie being sneaky, and the sharing of the whisky is the perfect ending.

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it - and of course my sole intention was to write something useful about whisky; the lads just sneaked in *g*. Yes, Bodie tried to be clever and cover his back by pretending to be drunker than he was, but he let himself get discouraged too easily, foolish lad - just as well the penny dropped for Doyle, or at least enough to persuade him to chance his arm. I just hope their whisky kiss went a lot better (well of course it did!) than the one time I actually tried this in real life (with brandy) - not quite the great success I had imagined! lol

[snailbones.livejournal.com]

I just hope their whisky kiss went a lot better (well of course it did!) than the one time I actually tried this in real life (with brandy) - not quite the great success I had imagined!

I'm giggling here, because you've reminded me of trying it... I seem to remember a lot of dribbling was involved! I'm sure B&D did it far more gracefully, or at least had fun licking up the resulting spills *hg*

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Eh, at least it was only dribbling! I seem to remember somebody being taken by surprise by my brilliant idea, and nearly choking! (makes me laugh now, but it was somewhat VERY embarrassing to my late-teens self) I'm sure the lads did a much better job of things! *g*

[saintvic.livejournal.com]

I like how you have woven the poem into the story and I always enjoy a bit of misunderstanding between the lads before they get together. Enjoyed this, thank you.

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Thank you! They certainly can be a bit pig-headed and touchy, so I guess they do have misunderstandings from time to time *g* (and I could see either one of them afraid to risk love and wanting not to risk a precious friendship too) I'm really glad you enjoyed it - and I appreciate your commenting.
Oh, hey, you live just over there in LoM sometimes, don't you? (don't know my way around over there, but I've just wandered by a time or two - looks like a nice neighbourhood!)

[saintvic.livejournal.com]

Oh, hey, you live just over there in LoM sometimes, don't you? (don't know my way around over there, but I've just wandered by a time or two - looks like a nice neighbourhood

Why yes I do, LoM was the first fandom I really got involved in online. Then some lovely people on my flist (well I have to say they are lovely or I may get in trouble) persuaded me to watch the Pros and I was hooked here as well. LoM fandom is great and very friendly although I have to admit I am horribly behind on posts everywhere and only just catching up now from xmas time.

Still playing catch up.

[draycevixen.livejournal.com]

I laughed at your opening joke having had a lot of fun *cough* with American friends over the names of single malts. *g*

Nice set up, really nice use of the poem and Doyle taking charge of the situation (and the whisky) was just great.

Thank you! :D

Re: Still playing catch up.

[heliophile-oxon.livejournal.com]

Aw, thanks! I'm as happy as a clam if I managed to raise a smile or two! Single malts do have the most wonderful names, but there are plenty that take a bit of effort to get your tongue around them (the names, I mean - no trouble getting one's tongue around the whisky!). The poem's irresistible, because you could imagine it applying to either one of the lads really. But I'm glad Doyle decided he couldn't be having with that! Thank you for reading and commenting (and pricking my conscience, too - I'm way behind on comments I want to make!)